Unscripted
by Brookebynature
Summary: Damon and Elena are lead actors in the popular show Vampires! Despite trying to fight their developing feelings towards each other, the two eventually fall in love. However, when real life starts to imitate the show and they find they want very different things, they must learn how to continue professionally when all roads lead back to each other. Delena AU
1. Prologue

**A/N- New story! I've been excited to post this for a while, and now that 'Holding On' is complete, I thought it was time. While I understand that the idea behind this may not be everyone's cup of tea, there were quite a few of you who messaged to say give it a go. So I have :) Really hope you enjoy this prologue. Drop a little review at the end x**

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Unscripted

Prologue

 _Back of the room looking at you_

 _Counting the steps between us_

 _A hundred and five little blades in a line_

 _From your skin to mine_

 _And I feel it_

Mornings are Damon's favourite time of day. In the winter especially, when it's too dark and too cold and just too damn _early_ for most people, he loves mornings because in that short space of time - before the alarm sounds and the outside world kicks into gear - there's this feeling of complete and utter peace that he feels at no other point during the day. This feeling is compounded by the woman who sleeps in his arms.

Right on cue, Elena does that half-mumble, half-content-sigh that he finds so comforting as she burrows further into his side, her dark hair spilling its way down her back in a waterfall of liquid silk. He trails his fingers lightly along her arm and her breathing evens out again. She has a leg pulled back slightly behind her so that it rests snugly between the both of his - something she's always done since that fateful evening of the cast costume party where they finally gave in to the undeniable chemistry between them that was threatening to start some kind of combustion. He has absolutely no idea why she sleeps like that but hey, it's a chance to have one of those gorgeous long legs touching his and he's _never_ going to complain.

He glances at the clock and begins a silent countdown for the next minute until the alarm goes off and she begins her inevitable ' _I'm not a morning person_ ' grouch routine. Elena does _not_ love mornings. In fact, Damon isn't sure he's ever met someone who finds waking up such an arduous task.

Sure enough, as the alarm sounds, reminding them that there's ten minute before they need to get up and face the longs hours of shooting on set, Elena groans in the way he finds utterly adorable (not that he's ever told her; she probably knows though, he figures) and attempts to burrow even further into him.

"Ten minutes baby," he murmurs into her hair, kissing the top of her head. This is the hardest part of the morning. It's at this point where he has to extract her body from his so that he can get up to make coffee. There's a period of time, Damon has discovered during the last three years he's openly loved Elena Gilbert, where if he doesn't leave their bed before she's fully aware of her surroundings, she'll drag him back under the sheets and they'll be _very_ late for work.

As he pulls back the covers and makes his way towards the bathroom, Elena rolls onto her stomach, folding her arms around the white linen-clad pillow. Damon can't fight the smile that creeps across his lips and returns to the bed to press a kiss against her now-exposed temple because he's so in love with her that it actually hurts sometimes. Most of the time.

"Nine minutes."

"Urgh."

He smiles and goes back to the bathroom. _That_ noise means she knows she has to get up.

By the time Damon has showered, dried and dressed, Elena is sitting up in bed, sleep-trussed hair tumbling around her shoulders, ready to greet him properly.

"Morning." She pulls him by the shirt, down towards her, letting her fingers rake through the hair on the back of his neck so that he's tingling all over when she pulls away.

"Good morning." His voice is hoarse but even after three years, that's what she does to him and he wouldn't have it any other way. "Shower. Dress. I'll make coffee."

"Come back to bed," she whisper-whines, patting the space next to her with one hand as she lowers one of the straps of her camisole with the other, and his resolve _almost_ breaks. This kind of emotional blackmail occurs every few weeks. She always used to win, but one icy morning, when he was driving a little too fast to make up time, the car spun. In the moment just after it settled and he noticed her white knuckles as she gripped him like she does whenever she's terrified, he decided _he_ would always be the one to win the morning struggle.

"Time's up gorgeous." He pulls back the cover to expose the purple silk of her tiny pajama shorts. "Go before neither of us show up to work and Wendy fires us."

Elena rolls her eyes with a grumble but the smirk she gives him as she sashays away shows she knows _exactly_ what she's doing.

X

They're on the road twenty minutes after she emerged from the shower with a travel mug each and a toasted bagel with cream cheese that is emitting crisp crumbs all over the floor of the car for Elena.

"Who are your scenes with today?" Damon asks as they pull up at the intersection and she licks the last few crumbs off her fingers.

"Caroline mostly. I think it's the episode with quite a lot of Candice and Nina scenes because they're fighting. You?"

"Ric. It's Ian and Matt bar scenes mostly, although they've started using a different colorant to tinge the water brown for the whisky and it's even more disgusting than what they used before."

They ride the rest of the journey in comfortable quiet, his hand resting lightly on her knee as she watches the lights ahead change in unison. With every sip of her coffee, he watches her stifle a yawn. She'll be glad when the summer comes, Damon knows, and it's time for a break in filming. As much as they're on set for pretty much the same length of time, Elena plays two characters: Nina and Katherine (sometimes three when you count Amara) and while she's filming for most of the time, He can hang out with Ric and Stefan at craft services and relax.

Elena is almost done with her coffee, Damon observes, but is still struggling against the string of yawns fighting their escape from her mouth.

"You okay?"

She looks surprised at his question but squeezes his hand and offers that sleepy smile he loves so much, "I'm fine."

He asked her the other week whether she was working too hard; there'd been the horrific hours on set, not to mention the numerous public appearances at award shows and tv networks to promote the current season of Vampires! She had insisted though, that she was fine - better than fine, _great_ even - and this was _exactly_ the kind of life she'd signed up for when she'd been cast as Nina on the show. Damon wasn't entirely convinced but she was still Elena and she was _never_ too tired for sex at the end of each long, exhausting day. So yeah, he wasn't going to push it.

They arrive on set twenty minutes later and by this time, Damon notices that her energy levels have increased enough that she can bound out of the car towards Caroline who has brought her dog with her. He watches as she lets the Husky/German Shepherd mix jump up and paw at her quilt-like coat while she giggles. He swears his favourite hobby is just watching Elena do _anything_. There isn't time to indulge himself however, and he presses a soft kiss against her lips before making his way to hair and makeup.

X

He isn't surprised later in the day when he enters his trailer to find Elena spending a rare, free five minutes practising yoga. He's gotten better at controlling himself now when it comes to watching her bend in...those ways. Besides, she knows _exactly_ what it does to him and she's never been afraid to exploit that fact in the past.

"I brought you something," he tells her, bending down so that his face is level with hers as he produces a vanilla chocolate chip cookie from behind his back.

"Oh my God!" she straightens up right away "The cookies are back?!"

"They're back." Damon hands it to her and she takes a very unlady-like large bite, spraying crumbs everywhere as she says,

"Soooo good."

He just watches, amused, as she crams the sugary treat in way faster than she should.

"I don't know what I love more," Elena says, swallowing the last mouthful. "You, or these cookies."

"How about me for bringing you the cookies that you love?"

"Hmm," she pretends to think before offering her lips to his. "Seems logical."

They end up spending the rest of their short downtime attached to each others' lips under the guise that they have a kissing scene coming up and they need to practise. Truth is, they don't really need to practise these types of scenes anymore; they've kissed in pretty much every way possible in real life and now when they kiss as Ian and Nina, there's no difference. It's another huge perk of the job for which Damon is infinitely grateful.

Their first kissing scene had been very different. Ian had thought he was kissing Nina on the front porch of her house, but it turned out it was Katherine. It was the kind of kiss the script had asked to 'convey love and emotion'. It had been awkward. They'd practised in her trailer, Elena keeping her head completely still until that moment when his lips whispered their presence across hers. His hands had been shaking as they'd brushed against her jawline to cup her face in order to tilt it for access at the right angle. He remembers hearing her breath catch at the same time he was fighting to keep his under control. They were both still containing their feelings for one another at this point, and after pulling away, neither had been able to look the other in the eye. Elena had once described it in an interview as "intense" when asked about the scene. He couldn't have agreed more.

"I'm going to be late finishing tonight," she tells him when they finally detach their lips from each others' and she leans against his shoulder. "You should go home without me."

"How late?"

"We have to reshoot some stuff. I'm guessing at least eleven. Maybe later."

"I'll see what time I get done." he presses a kiss to her crown. "I might go to Whole Foods. We're out of pretty much everything."

Her eyes are closed, Damon notices, as she lets her lips rest against the bare skin of his upper arm.

"Weekend breakfast."

Weekend breakfast is a tradition of theirs which started with Elena attempting to make him eggs florentine and freshly-squeezed orange juice on the morning of his birthday nearly two years ago. He'd woken to find her space in the bed cold - meaning she'd been up a while - and then his ears had been assaulted by all manner of clattering. He'd found her in the kitchen, face red with a mixture of stress, confusion and over-heating, with orange quarters covering the counter and scrambled eggs burning in the pan. She didn't cook. She _doesn't_ cook. She'd been disappointed she hadn't been able to make him the birthday breakfast she wanted to - and she'd used all the supplies in the process - but he'd just been half-amused, half-touched at what she'd been trying to achieve. He'd reached behind her, turned off the pans and accidentally brushed her ass, finding it bare under his shirt. So yeah, he didn't get breakfast but she'd jumped him against the counter, so really, it was a win-win.

He now makes the breakfast. Elena tidies up around him, intermittently pressing kisses against his neck, shoulders, lips and anywhere else she can reach. Just another reason Damon loves mornings.

"Weekend breakfast," he confirms and feels her lips curve into a smile.

He sees her later in the afternoon - a passing meeting as they're walking between the various locations around the set - and unusually, there's a small child clutching her hand, his little fingers pointing to various set 'landmarks'.

"Aidan, slow down on the questions!" he hears Lisa, one of the camera crew, shout. "I'm going to hire Elena as a babysitter the next time his daycare shuts without warning," she tells him as they pass. Damon only realises when Stefan shouts him a questioning, "Buddy?" that he's stopped walking and is just _staring_ at his girlfriend as she talks animatedly with Lisa's son. This could be his life. _Their_ life. Only, not with someone else's child, but theirs. He shakes himself out of his reverie and catches up to Stefan with a jog. That ring box in the pocket of his ski jacket he never wears hidden deep at the back of his closet feels like it's burning in his hands. During tomorrow's weekend breakfast, he thinks.

X

"There's a bath waiting for you," Damon tells Elena after she's kissed him hello and dropped her purse onto the console by the door. "Dinner will be ready in a half hour."

"Smells great," she yawns, pulling off the boots she's been wearing pretty much permanently since the cold Atlanta weather began.

"Chicken cacciatore," he replies, kissing her forehead.

"Something Ian would make."

"True, but I'm not Italian."

"No," she says softly, making her way towards the bathroom. "You're better."

It's nearly 1am when they eat. She's in pajamas and a horrific red dressing gown she insists on wearing 'when it's cold', even though their apartment is a perfectly acceptable temperature to just wear a t-shirt in. Damon silently reminds himself to crank up the thermostat if he wants to see more of her skin. She's apologised countless times for how late it is, even though _she_ didn't insist on reshooting, and for the fact he had to do the shopping and cooking on his own.

"You wouldn't know what to buy anyway." He genuinely doesn't mind. He just loves the fact that he's the one she comes home to.

"I saw you with Lisa's son earlier," he says when they've finished eating and she's apologised _again_.

"His daycare cancelled on her at the last minute so she had to bring him on set. Asked lots of questions."

"He seemed to really like you. Lisa's ready to hire you as a sitter."

"No chance," she scoffs and takes a swig of wine. "I think a half hour is my limit."

Damon is momentarily unsure of what to say. After a while, he questions, "You don't like kids?"

"I'm not sure I'd say I don't like them," she waves her hand as though this isn't a conversational topic that is making is stomach lurch. "But I definitely don't want one."

He waits for the "yet" to follow. But it doesn't. And there it is. His stomach feels as though it's about to fall through his ass. Three perfect, perfect years with the woman of his dreams has led to this devastating moment. Elena finally looks at him, questioning the silence. And then he watches her read the expression on his face and she realises. Realises what it means.

"You...you want kids?" Her eyes are wide. She looks like she's about to have a panic attack. He's pretty sure he _is_ having one.

"Always have."

"With me?"

"Of course."

Damon thinks he might be sweating. There's a strange sort of ringing in his ears. "I just always assumed…"

"Damon…" her voice is breaking into a crack of a whisper, "I'm sorry."

They don't say anything for the next few minutes. He thinks his mouth or his brain might be broken because there are so many things he wants to say but they're not coming out, until,

"Maybe you'll change your mind," escapes his lips. "In a year or so, you might feel differently."

"Will _you_?"

No, but she's younger. Just not ready. _Yet_.

"Damon, acting is my life. I've worked so hard to get here, to get this role, and now there's a chance of working on that horror film - it could be the start of something really big. _That's_ what I'm working towards."

He feels like he's been punched.

"Not a family."

And now run over.

If there's a God, he thinks, then he's been well and truly screwed over. In this exact moment, he wishes they'd never had these three years. Wishes that he'd discovered this about her at the very start and he wouldn't have to feel like his world is ending. But his world _is_ ending.

"Damon?" He hadn't realised she'd still been speaking. "I'm sorry…"

All he can think about is that ring in the bottom of his ski jacket pocket and the fact he'll never put it on her finger because weekend breakfast isn't going to be a thing any more is it?

"What?" He doesn't mean to snap. Just, how the fuck is he supposed to respond?

"I wish I felt differently, but…"

"You don't."

There are tears in her eyes. "Right."

"So what now?" It's probably a stupid question to ask at 1:15am but he's just discovered the love of his life doesn't want the same future he does.

"I love you Damon." A tear falls down her cheek. He wants to brush it away but he can't bring himself to because, reasonable or not, he thinks he might hate her a little bit right now. "I'm _in love_ with you. _That_ hasn't changed."

"So what are the options?" he practically spits. He's being an asshole and he knows it. But he can't help it. "Either we end things, or just keep going, all the time knowing we want the exact opposite out of life and neither of us is going to concede?" Do we just prolong the agony? Or have the worst weekend of our lives and break up now?"

Elena is silent. They both are. Damon thinks he wants to vomit but his brain is doing that unable-to-connect thing again. All he can process is that she's holding her wine glass so tightly it looks like it's about to shatter. And then it does. And yet, instead of cleaning it up, Elena attacks his mouth with hers. He was wrong earlier, when he thought they'd kissed in every possible way. Because they haven't ever kissed like _this_.

He's torn that dressing gown and her pajamas off before they've reached the bedroom. Her fingers are shaking as she unbuckles his belt but she finally navigates the metal out of the hole and flings it off. It bounces off the wall. _Good_ , he thinks in some tiny portion of his brain. It'll leave a mark.

He pushes her down onto the bed hard enough that she bounces upwards and collides against his chest, scraping it with her teeth and fingernails. He growls. Actually growls. She bites him after that. On his shoulder, neck, ear, chest.

He makes her come after a punishing regime of licking and sucking - and biting, because he'll damned if she brands him without him returning the act - until she's teetering on the brink of exploding over and over and over, and her orgasm is like no other. They're going to have to flip the mattress, never mind changing the sheets.

Elena returns the favour - or punishment, depending on the viewpoint - exhausting him with her tongue and her teeth and the back of her throat until he's literally screaming for breath. When Damon finally enters her, he grips the headboard for leverage and slams as hard as he can against her. She can't even say his name because the only noise that seems to fall from her lips is a moan that makes him want to record the whole thing on his phone so that he can play it over and over and over so that it's the only sound left in his world.

They're drenched in sweat by the time they're done. Her chest is heaving, those perfect breasts pressing into him with each inhalation. Unexpectedly, she turns towards him and begins trailing feather-light kisses from under one ear, across his mouth to the other. She rolls so that she's straddling him, brushing strands of his hair back off his face in such a gentle way that Damon's not entirely sure she's the same girl. With each kiss that comes from her lips, she rocks forward against his centre, soft moans humming within her throat that make him want to barricade them in that bedroom and never acknowledge the outside world again. It's at least an hour of slow, sweet exploration during which she pauses every few minutes to simply kiss what feels like every inch of his body, before they finally climax, limbs too heavy to do anything other than just lay there for a good ten minutes.

He finally pulls her to him when his arms have recovered and instead of leaving her leg between his, she rests practically on top of him, both legs wrapped around his, her lips pressed against his neck as her fingers dust across his arms and chest. Each time her eyelids draw downwards, she pulls them back up in an act of defiance against her clearly exhausted body. And then he realises why: she's prolonging the inevitable. This is a goodbye.

' _Cause love is a cage_

 _These words on a page carry the pain_

 _They don't free it_

 _In another life I wouldn't need to console myself_

 _As I resign to release you_

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 **Lyrics are taken from 1000 Times by Sara Bareilles**


	2. Moving On Letting Go

**A/N - Thank you gorgeous reviewers for your kind words. Trying to message people individually with thanks but there are a few of you who reviewed as guests and I'm unable to do so, so here's my chance to say thank you :) Just a heads' up, this story will move quite quickly. Lyrics are taken from Mayday Parade 'Miserable at Best'. Enjoy x**

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Unscripted

Chapter 1: Moving On; Letting Go

 _Don't cry,_

 _I know you're trying your hardest_

 _and the hardest part is letting go_

 _of the nights we shared_

The entire apartment smells like burnt. Burnt what, Elena isn't quite sure, because she's just burned _everything_ , but her hair smells of it and so do her clothes and she's already running late. Cooking has been a learning curve and she hasn't yet mastered it. Her one attempt at cooking breakfast occurred two years ago for Damon's birthday and until the previous weekend, she'd never had to make a meal since. Now though, he's gone and unless she cooks _something_ , she goes hungry. Sometimes, that's the easier option.

Each night when she goes to bed - alone - and each morning when she wakes - alone - after only a couple hours sleep (if she's lucky) Elena asks herself the same question: does she want children? It's as if her head is willing her heart to comply but it just won't and so she tries to continue on as she would have done before. But continuing on is a hard thing to do when she now has to cook and shop and drive to work - and home again to an apartment which screams that Damon is no longer there - and all she wants is for him to change his mind.

She dumps the pans in the sink and turns the tap on in a vain attempt to prevent the egg/oil/spinach mixture from being welded on so much she has to buy a new set before grabbing an orange from the fruit bowl. She's not sure how long it's been there - it certainly wasn't her who bought it - but craft service might have granola and Greek yogurt if she's lucky and the orange will at least keep her going until she gets to the set.

When she arrives in the parking lot, the only space left is next to Damon's Camaro and so she parks up her little Fiat 500 and makes a dash to hair and makeup. They broke up eight days ago. She's been late to work every day since. Funny, she thinks, as she's sprinting in Uggs and her navy quilted coat that pretty much resembles a blanket, that on the show, his character has a Camaro which is pretty iconic as far as the fans are concerned. They'd gone to an auction after he'd done his first scene with her and that car together, and he'd paid way more than he should to have one of his own. Buying her own car this week had been significantly less exciting. Some smarmy salesman had recognised her and had asked for pictures, whispering in her ear as he took a selfie that she was 'way too hot for that Salvatore guy anyway'. She'd brought pretty much the only vehicle she figured she could park; her first (and last) attempt in the Camaro had resulted in a mailbox-shaped dent at the back and even though Damon had assured her it was fine, she'd known he was pretty devastated.

As she sits in the chair, rummaging through her purse to find the orange from the fruit bowl, she realises Damon is making his way over from across the lot. It's been unsurprisingly tense whenever they've met on set, but luckily, Ian and Nina have very few scenes together over the next episode.

She picks up her script, reading through the lines as he enters, blowing into his hands to warm them up; he never wears gloves, even when it's absolute freezing like it is now. He's a California boy but loves the cold and she's always surprised that even during the holidays, he'd rather stay in Atlanta or accompany her to her native Canada. Not that that would be a thing any more. He finally looks up and she meets his eye. He looks awful. He looks like the time he was sick with the flu and she spent a long weekend making cups of tea and scouring the aisles of Whole Foods for organic chicken noodle soup. After he'd been well enough to sit up a little, she'd been able to make him feel a little less terrible with her kisses. She isn't going to be able to do that this time.

"Oh good," Wendy's voice fills the room and Elena is glad their producer is here. "You're both here. When you've got a minute, can you pop into my office?"

She listens to Damon's voice, professional as ever. "Of course."

"I'll be about another twenty minutes," Janie, the make-up artist tells them. "And Hanna should be here soon to sort you out Damon."

"Perfect," Wendy confirms before breezing back out again like the whirlwind she is.

Damon is busy shuffling his feet in his black biker boots in an obvious attempt to warm his feet as he eyes the orange in Elena's hands.

"You shouldn't eat that; it's old."

She stops peeling the skin and looks up at him. "It was in the fruit bowl. I burned the eggs. Again."

He tries to stifle a smile and fails, but his eyes are sad. Watching him break like this is worse than watching him leave their bed for the final time.

 _~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~_

" _You don't have to go yet." Her voice is a whisper so low she bares even hears it herself. But she knows she's spoken when he clenches his fist and sucks in a deep breath._

" _You know we can't have this weekend."_

 _She wants to scream at him that if he'd only change his mind, none of this would be happening. If she was enough, if loving her and having her love him was enough, then they could stay in that apartment eating crispy bacon and pancakes and maple syrup at the counter before going back to bed to leave maple-tinged kisses across each others' skin. But she's not enough and having to accept that feels like someone is repeatedly stabbing her chest._

 _He's peeling her off of him and Elena is pretty sure she's never going to resent him more than she does at that very moment. He let her practically smother him the entire night, neither sleeping for more than a few minutes at a time but now, she almost wishes she was asleep so she didn't have to watch him leave her. Watch him prove that her love alone isn't enough._

 _Damon is almost fully out of the bed before he turns back to face her, his fingers reaching to smooth the stray strands of hair out of her face so lovingly she's momentarily blind to anything other than his touch. And then he whispers,_

" _I'll always love you the most."_

 _For the first time, she cries. And he leaves._

 _~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~_

"I'm heading to craft services anyway. What do you want?"

His voice brings Elena back into the room to the realisation that her fingers are trembling. "Oh, um…"

"Granola and Greek yogurt?" he offers like he knows her mind. Can he tell that all she wants is for him to kiss her and promise he made a mistake? If he can, he doesn't oblige and instead, pulls his coat further around his body. "I'll bring it anyway."

When he leaves hair and makeup, Janie blows out a breath with a whistle. "God, that was awkward. I've never seen a couple who've broken up look at each other like all they wanna do is either scream or rip each others' clothes off."

Elena looks at the woman without knowing how to respond. "Sorry if we made you uncomfortable."

"Oh honey," she dusts her nose with a powder brush before starting on her eye makeup. "I didn't feel uncomfortable for me. Anyone can see how much you guys love each other, that's all."

"Sometimes it isn't enough," she mumbles a little petulantly under her breath, but Janie doesn't catch it. Or she's too polite to acknowledge the comment. Either way, she's grateful.

X

"Look guys," Wendy says, perching on the edge of her desk opposite Damon and Elena. "I'm just gonna come out and say it. Obviously, Nina and Ian are the show's core couple, and the writers and I have always dreamed of them ending up together. But we also want you to be comfortable and if you want us to write in a Nian breakup, we've already discussed some potential storylines."

Elena isn't sure how to respond. She's part-touched at their producer's empathy and part-panicking at how Damon might respond.

"We have to think about the fans," he says, his voice catching a little in his throat. "And about our professionalism."

An "I agree," leaves her mouth, seemingly without permission from her brain. Damon turns to her, his blue eyes soft.

"You don't have to decide now," Wendy tells them. "I just wanted you to know we'll support you whatever you decide. And as much as we love Ian and Nina, we love Damon and Elena more. You have to be happy."

Damon shrugs as though this conversation isn't making either of their hearts race. "Nina and Ian together is essential for the show as far as I'm concerned."

What is she supposed to follow that with? His nonchalance makes her hate him a little. But not more than she still blindly loves him. _Never_ more than she loves him. And so she gives her permission? Blessing? Wish? (she's not sure) for Wendy to keep the show's core paring.

They leave that office together but in silence, making their respective journeys to the areas of the set they need to be in. His fingers are just there, dangling only millimetres from hers and she's desperate to touch him. It's as though there's a magnet pulling her in, and she's forced to step a little further away so that the torture is a little more bearable. It doesn't work. She'll never be over him, she thinks.

X

It gets easier. Days turn into weeks which turn into months and then finally, the short winter days have grown long enough that coats are no longer a necessity and getting up each morning isn't quite as terrible as it had been all winter. Ian and Nina scenes are still a little awkward; declaring your undying love for your ex-boyfriend is never going to be easy - even if you're pretending to be someone else - but not so awkward that they can't rehearse together. There are times however, when Elena contemplates messing up their scenes, just so she can spend a few more seconds in Damon's arms, kissing him and lying half-naked in a bed. And then she remembers that she's building her career on professionalism and talent. So she executes each scene with him so perfectly that nobody would suspect a thing.

Cooking too, it seems, is just a skill she needed more practice at. After spending countless hours at night researching 'cooking for dummies' and 'easy dinners', Elena now has a repertoire of three meals: pasta alla vodka, ground beef fajitas and grilled chicken with salad. It's during another night spent propped up in bed with her laptop balanced on her knees, that the picture hits her like a suckerpunch: a picture of Damon hand-in-hand with a woman. And not just any woman - Rosalie Cullen, a fellow actress who she's spent a few nights out and award ceremonies chatting to over the years. The tears prick and fall before she's fully registered that this picture has been taken in Atlanta and Damon looks incredibly happy.

What she should do, she knows, is close the website and the laptop and go to sleep. Yet instead, she spends the next hour and a half dissecting the series of photographs in an attempt to determine in how many ways Rosalie is better than her.

They're coming to a close on filming season 5 of the show and she knows she should be looking forward to a well-deserved rest. But her willingness to try and break into film has paid off and she's finally scored a semi-main role in the horror film she's been wanting to join since she heard about the script half a year ago. She starts filming in a few weeks and that photo now makes her infinitely glad she has something to focus on; breaks in filming were always _their_ time. Damon was always in charge of planning their activities (although, as each day passes, Elena realises he planned pretty much _everything_ in their lives together, so it figures he'd eventually plan something she had no intention of doing) and she's experienced so much of the world through him. There was her very first trip to Paris - where they brought their mothers, too - and then the snorkelling trip in Tahiti, the time they took his Camaro and just drove wherever they felt like going, their first (and the subsequent) visits to Coachella and the skiing trips in Aspen. He always used to say how damn adorable she looked swamped in boarding pants with a bobble hat on the top of her head. She just thought he _always_ looked good.

Sighing, she finally decides that sleep should win, regardless of whether it will, and shuts down the laptop before flicking off the light. Caroline might know, she figures, and makes a mental note to mention Damon's potential new relationship status tomorrow.

X

"I saw the picture too," the blonde tells her as they walk from the set of Whitmore College towards Caroline's trailer for a rare hour's downtime. "I'd heard a few people mention it a few weeks ago - when I was at that press thing - but I didn't want to say anything in case it wasn't true. Are you okay?"

No. The love of her life is looking for someone else to give him the thing she can't. Won't.

She shrugs in a huge display of nonchalance. "I'll be fine."

"You know what I realised yesterday when I was in bed alone eating a pint of cookie dough ice cream?"

At this, Elena has to laugh, because Caroline can always make her feel better - intentionally or not. "What?"

"That we're both single now. We need a girls' night out. We should get Bonnie on board too and get horrifically wasted. Maybe we'll even end up in the National Enquirer." her blue eyes are sparkling with excitement and even though a singles' night out is pretty much the last thing Elena wants to do, her best friend's idea does kind of make sense. "What do you say?"

"I'm up for it."

"Yay!" Caroline claps her hands excitedly. "This Friday night then. Wear something slutty yet classy."

"Does that combination even exist?"

"We'll _make_ it exist."

Elena rolls her eyes but admits silently that she feels slightly less terrible. And then they see Damon across the lot, walking towards his own trailer and a slideshow of images flash through her brain, ending on the one of him and Rosalie together. She feels like shit again.

X

"Jesus Elena," Caroline whistles, eyeing her up and down. Slutty yet classy had turned out - as predicted - to be a tricky combination to master. She had, however, been able to find a _very_ fitted dark purple dress which stopped just below her knee, with a rather high split up the side that showed only when she crossed her legs. It was as close to Caroline's instructed dress code as she could get, but the blonde's reaction is of clear approval. " _I'd_ fuck you in that dress!"

"Um...thanks?"

"Girls, I'm not sure about you, but I need a drink," Bonnie laughs, looping her arm around Elena to pull her towards the bar.

They're pretty tipsy after only a couple of cosmos, but long hours on set without much time for drinking will do that to you, and before long, they're dancing in front of the house band who are taking requests for the country songs Caroline loves so much. Elena and Bonnie are content at this moment to dance to anything, and so Caroline jumps up towards the guitarist nearest the edge of the stage (who seems to have taken a liking to her) to ask for song after song. The band seem only too happy to oblige and Elena makes her way to the bar for another round for the three of them.

It's incredibly busy but she manages to navigate her way through a small opening to a space next to someone with rolled up shirt sleeves who smells pretty incredible. She rests her clutch on the bar and then the owner of the rolled up sleeves picks it up, handing it back to her.

"I kind of spilled a drink there earlier. I wouldn't want your purse to smell like sambuca."

She looks up - God, he's tall - to see his green eyes looking at her a little mischievously. A knowing smile is tugging its way across his lips as he appraises her outfit.

"Elena Gilbert,"

Carter Anderson," she returns, leaning a little closer to the bar. She's seen him around a few times - he's a bit of a party boy - though he's always been very sweet. Tonight though, he looks anything but. He looks more or less like he wants to eat her.

The barman approaches them for their order and Carter lets her order the three cosmos before adding on four shots and a beer. She's not sure she likes where this is going. She doesn't _not_ like it either.

They do two shots each while at the bar, before he insists on helping her carry the three cocktails towards Caroline and Bonnie. As they approach the dance floor, they find that the band has finished their set for the moment and Caroline appears to have taken up residence on the guitarist's lap. Bonnie is chatting to the singer but looks relieved when she sees Elena.

"Ladies," Carter greets them, setting down the drinks at the table. "May I say, you all look incredible."

Bonnie rolls her eyes but can't help but smile before he whispers gruffly in Elena's ear, "You though... You're teasing me in that dress."

She turns to him to find his green eyes dark. He's running his tongue along his bottom lip, just above his stubble. He looks hot, she can't deny that. He looks like what she needs right now.

Before long, the band starts up again and Carter's friends come and join them so that they're one big group. They dance well into the early hours when the band ends their set and the guitarist gives his number to Caroline who looks like that cat who got the cream. Matching her look however, is Carter, each time he watches Elena dancing in his arms.

"Shall we get out of here?" he asks her, a hand resting on the bottom of her back, only slightly above her ass. She can see Bonnie's raised eyebrow opposite her but she's spent long enough feeling broken and sleeping alone. If it's only for the night, she'll gladly share a bed.

"Yes."

"Your place or mine?"

She realises in that moment, that she can't have sex in her bed. Because it's still _their_ bed. And she knows she's not cheating because _they're_ broken up and she has every right in the world to do whatever she wants under those sheets. But she's not sure she'll be able to go through with it.

"Yours."

 _You know it's haunting_

 _but compared to your eyes,_

 _nothing shines quite as bright._

 _And when we look to the sky,_

 _it's not mine,_

 _but I want it so._

 _Let's not pretend like you're alone tonight._


	3. Goodbye

**A/N - HUGE thank you to you lovely reviewers who took the time to write a little something. Tried to message individually but there are some guest reviewers I couldn't drop a reply to so here's my thanks :)**

 **Lyrics are taken from 'Goodbye' by Plankeye (a very sad song but I found listening to it while reading this back really enhanced the feeling of the chapter)**

 **Enjoy x**

* * *

Unscripted

Chapter 2:Goodbye

 _It's difficult to say goodbye after only one life_

 _The rain will fall down replenishing all of our broken dreams_

 _And this burning tree that's withering will bloom again_

 _Would you believe?_

The weight of the band on his fourth finger seems to increase as Damon exits the car in the parking lot. The weather is much brighter now; sunnier mornings and southerly breezes warm the ground quickly under his black biker boots. It's his first day at work as a married man and he's not entirely sure how it's going to go. Rubbing the cool metal, he smiles at the memory of how the band had come to be there in the first place.

He and Rosalie had been on vacation in Tuscany when she'd spotted the grand little church on the hill and suggested they should get married. They'd been wine-tasting that day - her dressed in a little white sundress with brown sandals and a huge floppy hat and she'd looked so beautiful bathed in golden sunshine that it had been easy to say yes. He'd known she wanted to be married before having kids in a couple of years - they'd discussed that too - and why was there any need to wait?

Their witnesses had been an old Italian couple who owned the farm next to the church and after the ceremony, they had insisted he and Rosalie eat their first meal as newlyweds in the kitchen of their farmhouse. It had been perfect and as much as the next morning, she'd looked at him carefully, asking if he regretted the way they did it, he really didn't. Doesn't.

They way they'd told everyone however? That was his regret. The instagram thing had been her idea; he'd never really been a huge fan of social media. Still, it made it easier that way, because how actually, are you supposed to tell your ex-girlfriend with whom you still work that even though the love you shared hasn't diminished any, you've married someone else because they share the same vision of the future? How do you let your best friend know he has no need to plan a bachelor party because you've already gone ahead and got married without him there to offer a shot (or several) of bourbon to calm the nerves before the ceremony? Yeah, so the picture of his and Rosalie's entwined left hands was the easier option. Perhaps he's a bit of a pussy.

Either way, it didn't seem appropriate that alongside that picture were the photos of his and Elena's trips all over the world. Out of respect for his marriage, he'd deleted every last private photo of the two of them in Hawaii and Italy and France and New York. He'd felt like an asshole. Still does.

"So you're a married man now!" Ric shouts across the lot, grinning his way over. "I guess the Post Office must have lost my invite."

"You know churches are holy places," Damon retorts. "They're not going to let people like you in."

"Fuck you," Ric laughs and claps him on the back. "And what's with the lack of bachelor party?" He knew this would come up. Ric's too predictable. "I've been saving those strippers' numbers for this!"

He can't help but grin at the man in front of him. "Nah, seriously man, congratulations."

"Thanks."

"So what happened? You get her pregnant or…"

This time, it's his turn to faux-slap, and Ric laughs again, rubbing the top of his arm where Damon's knuckles will have undoubtedly left a mark. "The moment just seemed right. She saw this little church and -"

"- Ah," he cuts in with sparkling eyes. " _Her_ idea."

He's saved from making any kind of response by Caroline's excited squeal from across the asphalt and he spends the next ten minutes recounting the story of their wedding to a swooning blonde who keeps muttering, "someday, I'll have that" to herself.

X

"Okay everyone, read-through for season 6, episode 7," Wendy's voice cuts through the chatter around the reading table and as Damon looks up, he meets Elena's gaze which quickly slides to his left hand and then back down to the script. He swallows. Hard. He's not sure why. "But before we start, Elena - you said you had something to share?"

Along with the rest of the cast, Damon looks at the brunette across from him who looks rather like she's about to have a panic attack. His fingers clasp involuntarily around his water bottle as he waits for whatever it is she's about to say, jumping ever-so-slightly when he hears Caroline's sharp intake of air, almost as if she knows what's coming. And then an awful feeling dawns on him because he thinks he might know too.

"I um…" she's shaking and he takes a sip of water as Elena forces some semblance of a smile. "I just wanted to let you know that...uh…" She's biting her lower lip. He hates it when she does that.

 _Hated_. He _hated_ it when she did that.

"I can't thank you enough for the opportunities working with all of you on this show have given me. My goal was always to play Nina until she had no more story to tell. And uh…" she's still not looking up. He's sweating. "Obviously, I have to think about my career opportunities and I have a really great chance at a lead role working for Leo Forde."

A few whistles break the quiet. Everyone knows how big of a director he is - there's no need for her to elaborate. Damon's pulse is hammering in his ears and he has no idea why he's feeling this way. He's moved on. _They've_ moved on. He loves somebody else now and yet, the thought of not getting to see her each day - because, he supposes, they are still friends after all - makes him want to cry. She hasn't said the words yet, but he knows this is the prelude to her announcing she's leaving Vampires! and everyone here behind her.

"And taking it would mean that I can't commit to both projects. So uh...I guess what I'm trying to say...is that this season will be my last."

Caroline's sobs sound out across the tables before she clamps a hand across her mouth, her eyes full of tears. After that, the room is a flurry of people hugging Elena and congratulating her, telling her how much she'll be missed and how the show won't be the same. Damon simply stands awkwardly; he's not sure what to say to her, what he has the _right_ to say to her. _Stay_ doesn't seem appropriate. Not when he refused her in their bed all those months ago. But somehow his feet carry him across the room and he pulls her to him, wrapping his arms tightly around her body as he breathes in her signature scent: vanilla and honey. He can't bring himself to say anything, only gripping her tighter when he hears a quiet sniffle pass her lips.

X

"I can't believe it's the final week," Elena announces quietly as he pushes back the door of his trailer. They have plenty of scenes to rehearse; she's pretty much working all day and night to get this filmed on schedule and she looks exhausted. So exhausted in fact, that last week, he'd started bring her food - only the leftovers from the previous night's dinner - to ensure that even if she isn't sleeping, she's at least eating enough. He knows she knows Rosalie cooks but they're adults, _professionals_ and if it bothers her, she doesn't seem to mind enough _not_ to eat whatever goodness he's brought.

They're yet to meet - Rosalie and Elena that is - but he's been reluctant to engineer any kind of event where his wife and the ex-love-of-his-life should need to be in the same vicinity. They're adults and professionals yes, but those two facts don't make things any less awkward.

"Eat some dinner and then we'll make a start," he tells her, indicating the foil packaging on the side.

"What is it?"

"Lasagne,"

"She's a good cook," Elena comments, referring to Rosalie for probably the very first time since the two of them became an item. "Much better than me. Although I mastered steak and grilled vegetables the other day."

"I'm impressed," he replies honestly. "Maybe they'll get you on Celebrity Masterchef."

She shrugs. "At least I'm now a step up from Worst Cooks in America."

He can't help but chuckle as she scrapes the lasagne onto a plate and shoves it into the microwave. Licking her finger and grimacing slightly at the cold tomato-beef sauce, she sighs, "This dance scene is going to take a lot of practice."

He groans inwardly. Dancing really isn't his forte. If he remembers correctly, it also isn't hers. She's always been a little clumsy, and the last six years haven't improved that any, but they both understand how iconic some of Ian and Nina's dances were on the show. There was the first one - in the first season where Nina was at a local beauty pageant and Ian had to step in to become her partner. That dance had taken a lot of practice. It had also been filled with tension; they hadn't gotten together yet at that point, and Damon remembers all of the ways her hands on him made him feel. He had to dip her at one point, exposing her neck and collarbone even more prominently, and it took absolutely everything in his power not to lean forward and kiss her. There was the dance at the party when Nina had just become a there was the dance scene in front of the fireplace (perhaps the most iconic of the lot) which was a particularly fun scene to practise. Knocking over lamps and wooden furniture in order to press her up against a wall is his idea of a great scene.

 _Was_. It _was_ his idea of a great scene.

He flicks on his ipod as she eats, drumming his fingers along to the songs until she's shovelled the last forkful into her mouth gratefully. It's moments like these - just the odd ones that occur from time to time - that he feels an overwhelming sense of something he can't put into a single word. It's part-guilt, part-misguided judgement and part-regret (not regret for marrying Rosalie, because he knows he loves her and if they were to be walking past that little church on the hill again, he'd still marry her) and as Elena stands to put her plate on the side, offering that small, dimple-displaying smile, he feels his heart twist and thinks that maybe, her leaving could be the best thing for all three of them.

"You ready?" she asks, flipping her long hair over her shoulder.

 _No_. "Yes."

"So you wanna do the dance first or the barn scene?"

 _Neither_. "I guess the dance is going to take the most practice. We should probably start there."

They spend the next half an hour trying (and failing) to move gracefully around the space outside of his trailer. Elena steps on his toes at least six times, muttering an apologetic "sorry" after each. When he dips her this time, the script asks for a kiss and as their lips meet, Damon does his best not to feel anything other than it being part of the job. He fails.

There are those tell-tale tingles dancing along his fingertips as he holds her in place and he wonders whether that will be something that will eventually go away. It's in that precise moment - when she detaches her lips from his, looking a little dazed as he pulls her back to their dancing position - that Damon realises he might always be in love with her. And that's okay, he figures silently, if his love for Rosalie is stronger. Which it is. It has to be because she's the one he's going to build a future with. He vows (silently again, because none of these things can _ever_ be voiced out loud) that Rosalie will only ever know his love for her. She won't doubt what they have and what they're going to build because he'll be the best husband and, in time, the best father.

"Again?" Elena's voice brings him back to the present.

"What?"

"Should we do that again? I'll try not to stand on you as much." She's grinning as she places her hand upright so her palm faces his. He rolls his eyes and puts a smile across his lips. His heart hurts.

X

 _I'd give it up in a second to be your husband. Your partner. The father of your kids._ He can barely read those words, let alone say them out loud. They haven't practised this scene. Their rehearsal time has been taken up almost solely with that damn dance and if there was any scene they had to forgo practising, this would be it every single time. He hates himself.

"Okay, positions everyone," Damon hears a voice shout, though at this point, he's not sure who it belongs to. His world in this moment is made up of Elena in a ridiculously perfect dress and the knowledge that after tomorrow, they're done. This journey that they've been on together will be over and he'll be free to focus on the only thing that should matter: his marriage. The distraction of Elena being around won't be there; she'll be living her life the way she'd always imagined and he'll be living his in the way _he_ imagined. Perhaps, he figures, this epic love they shared will be something he tells his children about when they get their hearts broken for the first time. Epic love is epic for a reason: sometimes it's just too big to work.

"Damon, your ring," the same voice says and he looks down at his left hand before his eyes meet Elena's. She watches him slide the ring off his finger with an expression he can't fathom. He supposes she's trying to mask hurt with indifference. It's the first time as an actress he's seen her fail.

They step to the marked spots ready to start shooting. She nods at him with a small smile and he knows they have to do this in one take.

"And action!"

"Hi,"

"Isn't a bridesmaids dress supposed to make you look like a freak of nature?"

She lets out a small laugh and dips her head. "Jo went easy on me."

They say their lines regarding Stefan's character, Paul, and then they're at the hardest part.

"It's been a blast. But I'd give it up in a second to be your husband. Your partner." his voice is faltering and he's not sure he can make it through the final line. But somehow he does. "The father of your kids."

Her eyes are brimming with tears and Damon doesn't miss how she looks away quickly, gathering herself before her words. The scene finishes, someone yells 'cut' and it's over. The hush from the crew is pretty deafening. He's not sure where to look. But then Elena saves them all by announcing "one down, one to go!" in such a cheerful voice that he realises he's frowning. But conversation picks up again and he can walk away without any attention.

X

"I can't believe this is it," she whispers, taking her cue in the centre of the road. Neither can he. His palms are sweating and the more he wills them to stop, the worse it seems to become. They've already shot the part with him lying in the middle of the asphalt and now all the have left is the dance. There's a bit of a surprise planned for Elena when they finish; they have foam and water ready to cover her in, and there's a cake with champagne for after they've wrapped and she's changed into her normal clothes.

She's spent longer being touched up today; usually it's a quick spray of her hair here and there, maybe a touch-up of eyeliner or bronze on her cheeks, but there have been many tears already (especially after she shot her last scene with Caroline) and she's just returned from having her mascara reapplied by Janie.

"My feet will be grateful," he offers with what he hopes is a convincing smirk and raised eyebrow. It must do the job because she laughs and swats him with her hand.

"I'm not that bad."

"If Dancing With The Stars approaches you, make sure your partner takes out insurance."

She's laughing that husky giggle she does that he always used to find absolutely adorable and Damon feels the tears prick in his eyes. He won't let them fall though, and instead rubs his palms on his jacket, waiting for someone to shout 'action'.

When they do, he considers messing the dance up so this doesn't all end now. They dance it perfectly however, and when Wendy shouts 'and that's a wrap', he lets go of her, stepping back before she catches him completely off guard and flings her arms around him. Elena's face is buried against into his chest and he can feel the effects of her emotion on his shirt. Stroking her hair with one hand, he raises his fingers of the other to stop one of the crew members who's making his way over with the foam. Yes, they need to lighten the moment, but he figures she can have her own moment first.

When she gathers herself enough to pull away, her mascara has run and her hair looks a little tangled from the tears, but she still looks beautiful. And then she's met with water and foam and God knows what else and after a few seconds, she's soaking and shrieking and it's like the tears never happened. Making her way amongst the crew, she pulls each of them in for a hug, passing on the wetness and foam with a mischievous glint that makes her look like the playful twenty-year-old she was when they first met.

He watches as she grabs the camera she's been carrying around all day and takes a snapshot of the crew soaked and foamy before turning the camera around so she can get a selfie with his hands in his pocket, Damon makes his way over. He thinks he might want to go home; this is harder than he'd thought it would be.

He doesn't leave though. He waits while she makes everyone pose for photos - him included - before making her way back to her trailer in her soggy dress, its hemline trailing behind her looking awfully like the train of a wedding dress. She emerges minutes later in a short polka-dot dress and ankle boots ready to toast her departure with a glass of Moet and a slice of cake.

X

They're gathered in the room where they do the read-throughs (it's packed of course) and she's smiling and laughing through her tears as people take it in turns to hug her and wish her the best of luck. She starts filming her movie in L.A in a couple of weeks and she has to pack all of her stuff up so she can get it sent to her new place. It's strange, he thinks, that two weeks from now, that apartment they called home for three years together will be devoid of all the paintings and photographs that made it theirs. It was easy to leave - _he was so mad at her_ (only momentarily of course, even though he knew none of it was her fault) - but he can't imagine it'll be as easy for her. Or maybe, he concludes, it will.

"Hey," she practically whispers once most of the crew have left to pack up their equipment. "I just wanted to say thank you."

He's confused. "What for?"

"Giving me some of the best experiences of my life."

The words leave her mouth as though they're nothing. Meaningless. He struggles to swallow.

"We had a great few years," he finally manages.

"We did."

"Everyone'll miss you."

She shrugs.

" _I'll_ miss you."

She shoots him a mock-warning look. "Don't make this awkward."

"I won't," he smiles in an attempt to force his trembling lip into submission. "Come here."

Elena wraps her arms around him and leans against his chest for the second time that evening as he lets his own arms envelope her. Pressing a soft kiss against her hair, he inhales the honey and vanilla scent one last time. Hasn't changed.

"I wouldn't change anything you know," she says. "I mean it."

"Me neither." He's lying. Never having loved her would probably be easier than whatever this current feeling is. Turns out you really _can_ love two people at once.

 _Now all that's left_

 _Pictures on the walls_

 _Memories and stories that are told_

 _The more often told the bigger they get_

 _Create a legacy lest we forget_

 _Walk away; it's time to say goodbye._


	4. In The Background

**A/N - Thank you to you lovely reviewers. Your kind words make my day. Crazy election huh? I'm from England but it's all over the news here!**

 **Anyways, hope you enjoy x**

* * *

Unscripted

Chapter 3: In the Background

Everything is quiet, since you're not around,  
And I live in the numbness now.  
In the background.  
I do the things we did before.

The ferris wheel is the first thing she sees. Lit up like a beacon in the balmy early evening sky, its illuminations signal the way for Elena and Carter, who laced his fingers with hers earlier in the evening and hasn't let go since. It's pretty nice, she's come to realise, to have someone to come home to again. It's not like they live together; he has his place and she has hers, but more often than not, their evenings are spent in each others' company. Carter is still in that phase of his life where he favours going out as opposed to staying in and even though she had never craved bars and dancefloors for the past three years, it turns out that she's still in that phase too. She'd simply never realised she'd missed it.

She tugs his hand excitedly and he bumps against her shoulder so that she gets a whiff of his cologne. He smells like a cross between how she'd imagine a surfer and the stereotypical movie badboy to smell. Carter's the type of guy she knows will break hearts. Not hers though, she's sure. Not hers.

"You know I hate heights Elena," he warns, but she simply rolls her eyes. The ferris wheel is her favourite.

"Tough." She bumps him with her shoulder again and he smiles. If there's any heart to be broken in whatever this is, it'll be his.

They reach the queue and that's when she spots them. Across the section or block or road...whatever it's classed as, they're there, his arm slung casually around her shoulder like he always used to. With her.

Coachella was always their thing. Actually, she supposes, maybe it was always his thing, and he just inducted her into this vibrant world of music and spirit...and drinking (though he was never too much into that part really) that she now holds in a higher regard than perhaps she should. They weren't together the first time he brought her.

~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~

"One Direction?" he scoffs, balking at her playlist. She's a little offended; it's catchy.

"I happen to like their songs. They're happy."

"It's not proper music."

"Pretty sure most of America wouldn't agree with you there."

He leans against the wall of her room; there's a hint that they might get trailers next season but no promises have been made. She'll be free to listen to her preferred music in private then, she figures. Not that she minds Damon's company of course.

"Come with me to experience some real stuff. Live bands, crowd surfing, feeling so free-spirited you never want to leave…" his eyebrow is cocked and he's wearing a smug smirk that irritates her and makes her want to jump him at the same time. It's getting harder to keep telling herself that they're just co-workers, though she just has to get on with it. He'd told an interview panel the previous week that she wasn't his "significant other". Her cheeks had hurt from the fake smile she'd kept up for the following three hours.

"And where might one experience this magic?" she asks in a faux-english accent. She's not sure where the hell that just came from, but he looks amused nonetheless.

"Coachella."

"What's that?"

"You're kidding, right?"

She stares blankly because, no, she's not kidding. Sometimes he makes her feel extremely uneducated. As if he seems to notice, his features soften and he uncrosses his arms. "It's a festival in California baby."

She doesn't care where the fuck it is. He's just slipped up and called her baby. Again. The sparks between them are threatening to start a fire and if she didn't know he was so opposed to dating his co-stars, her heart would be leaping right now. She has to ignore it though, or at least try to.

"When?"

"Next month. I have a spare ticket if you fancy it?"

She shrugs in a what she hopes is a display of nonchalance. "Sounds good."

His answering grin is so wide she can't help but return it. "Great."

X

"You like ferris wheels?" Damon asks, taking hold of her hand so he can tug her towards it regardless of her answer. She does, but it wouldn't matter right now if she had a phobia of the things because there are tingles shooting so far up her arm that it doesn't even feel connected to her body. She really wants to kiss him at the top of that ride. They're not Ryan and Marissa however, and this isn't The O.C.

"Elena?" he asks and she realises she hasn't answered.

"Yeah, I like them."

"Good. It's the best view of the venue."

He's not wrong. Each time their carriage rises, she's rewarded with the loveliest view of twinkling lights in all different colours, silhouettes of thin palm trees and a sky ribboned with purples and pinks and oranges. She thinks it might be her favourite view - other than the man next to her of course. Speaking of, Damon is currently resting his knee against hers with an arm draped casually over the back of the seat so that if she tilts her head, she can feel his muscles tense and flex beneath her. She wants to feel more than that.

The next day, they find a spot on the grass and lie down to watch the bands perform. He leaves his arm out for her to lay her head on: her human pillow. Elena's not sure if it's intentional or not, but he's trailing his fingers up and down the soft skin of her arm and even with the volume of the music, it's all she can focus on. Damon lets her snap some pictures of them before taking the camera off of her and draping an ankle over hers. Something's changed, she realises in that moment. She thinks he might want her too.

~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~

They're in the queue waiting to get on the ride - Carter's fingers still entwined with hers, for the record - when Damon turns around and catches her eye. Elena thinks she sees him tighten his hold around Rosalie, but it might have been a throw of the light. It shouldn't matter. It doesn't matter. And yet, she's analysing it more than she has any right to. Instead of coming over like she expects him to however, he only raises his fingers in a sort-of half-wave - a gesture so slight that to anyone else, would almost undoubtedly go unnoticed. She's not sure why he stays over by the stalls but she raises her own fingers to return the acknowledgement with a small smile.

Carter chooses that moment to loop his arm over her shoulders. She snuggles into his side and Damon turns away. She realises she's kept her eyes locked with his this entire time and then has some sort of silent mild panic that he might think all of this is for show. It's not. And she doesn't want Damon to think it is. Doesn't want him to think she's doing this on purpose to get at him, to be resentful. But then, he married the first fucking girl he dated after they broke up. She's not supposed to resent him for it. She thinks though, be it irrational or not, that she does.

X

It's too hot. It's only spring, yet already the heat of the L.A sun is warming the concrete city so that the night air is thick and heavy. Her air conditioning unit broke the other day and Carter isn't handy enough with a screwdriver to fix the damn thing. An engineer can't come until the following morning and so she's laid in (or rather, on) the bed in only a pair of panties and a silk camisole in an attempt not to combust. And to protect her leg which she'd injured earlier after insisting she did her own stunt. She's too awake to sleep and she's found herself browsing Instagram, mainly to keep up with what the cast of Vampires! is up to right now. They'll be filming for the second half of the season and if there's one thing she misses most, it's the fun they always had between takes.

Caroline's gotten more into social media lately, Elena's noticed, and it makes her smile to see her best friend enjoying her life with the guy she met at the bar the night all three of them went out in Atlanta. Bonnie is obviously still enjoying single life - judging by her posts - and she smiles, reading the comments from fans gushing about her new haircut.

Elena decides to post a picture from the set earlier in the morning - so many fans use social media to see what their favourite celebrities are up to that it's a great way to get messages - and truths - out there. Almost instantly, there are comments wishing her well and hoping her leg heals soon, but then come the pleads. The ones that beg her to return to Vampires! so that the current season doesn't get cancelled or become the final one. It reminds her what her first love of the show was - long before it was Damon: the fans. She'd had no idea how loyal and passionate a group of people could be, but she continues to scroll down her post until she sees a comment with a link to an article entitled Vampires Season 7:DOA?

She taps the link and it opens up an article written by tvguide detailing the show's falling ratings and 'sliding popularity of lead actor Damon Salvatore'. Elena feels her heart speed up as she continues reading the details of on-set feuds and spats between Damon and Stefan. She knows it's untrue - things like this always used to crop up time to time, especially when she and Damon were first together and the media loved to speculate as to whether the on-show love triangle was being imitated in real life. Still, her eager fingers continue scrolling until she's read every word at least four times before following the link to the online petition fans have set up to 'bring Nina back'.

There are thousands of signatures and she's not sure whether she feels touched or overwhelmed, yet either way, the overriding emotion is guilt. Vampires! gave her everything and maybe if she'd pushed herself a little harder, she could have managed both the show and this movie at the same time. She wouldn't have had to leave Caroline and Bonnie and everyone else. Damon. She wouldn't have had to leave him. But then, she figures, running away from seeing him every day with that ring on his finger was inevitable. It was getting too hard to pretend she wasn't affected each time he took it off to shoot a scene with her. She's just lucky enough that this job came up when it did, camouflaging her motives and all.

She debates calling Caroline, asking if the article is true and there really is a danger of the show being cancelled. But then, by some ridiculous coincidence, her phone starts ringing; It's Wendy.

"Hello?"

"Elena!" her breathy voice sounds surprised. "That was fast!"

"Had my phone in my hand," she laughs a little. "How are you?"

"I'm good." She can hear her former producer smiling down the line. "And you?"

"I'm good too, except my air conditioning unit broke the other day and it's about a hundred degrees in my apartment."

"All these weeks you've been filming an action movie and you can't repair it? Thought you were playing a tech-geek."

"Key word," she laughs. "Playing."

"I'm calling to ask you something," Wendy starts, and Elena can hear the trepidation in her voice. "I've been debating it for a few weeks and then I debated it some more tonight. We have a storyline coming up in which we could do with some audio from Nina. We wanted to invite you back to do it - if you can and you want to; we know how busy your schedule is - and of course if you can't then we can get -"

"-Yes," she answers. She doesn't need Wendy to finish. This is obviously important and knowing what she does, she can't help but hope that if they promote the shit out of whichever episode this audio is for, ratings might pick up enough for them to finish this season at least.

"Really?"

"Really."

"You didn't take much convincing."

"I miss you guys. It'll be great to see everybody."

"I'm doing a figurative hugging you over the phone right now."

Elena can't help but laugh again."We have a break in filming in a couple weeks. I could come then?"

"You're my hero."

She rolls her eyes even though there's nobody there to see. She hardly feels like a hero at the moment.

"There's also this awards thing you've been nominated for," Wendy continues. "It's in L.A at the Convention Center so wouldn't be far for you."

"What's the award?"

"It's uh...for you and Damon actually. Best on-screen chemistry."

She almost chokes, but Wendy continues, "Damon's already agreed to go."

"Oh." What else is there to say? She pretty much has to go now. "Any idea of the date?"

"In two weeks."

"That's a little short notice." She doesn't even know why she says those words. It's not like they matter - she'll be going. "I can probably manage it though."

"Great."

"Great." It's not great. It's awkward. Wendy however, brushes over the topic and chats a little while longer. They share stories from their respective sets before Elena hears a beeping over the line to signal that dinner for the other woman is ready. They say their 'see you soons' and she slides her thumb across the screen of her phone to end the call.

It just got harder to sleep.

Then you come swimming into view,  
And I'm hanging on your words like I always used to do,  
The words they use so lightly, I only feel for you,  
I only know this because I carry you around,  
In the background.


	5. What Once Was

**A/N - Huge thanks to all of you who reviewed last chapter, and hello to the new readers :) Glad most of you are enjoying this. As requested, this chapter is longer.**

 **Sorry about the lack of italics for song lyrics and the flashback last chapter. Not sure why they didn't work properly. xxx**

* * *

Chapter 4: What Once Was

 _We're reeling through an endless fall;_

 _We are the ever-living ghost of what once was_

"I've got my passport; my suitcase; driver's licence and my purse," Rosalie tells him, pressing the quickest of kisses against his lips. Even when she's flustered, she's calm. "I've forgotten nothing."

At that, he smiles. It's taken a while for him to get used to the fact that she's organised. Hell, this morning she'd even made eggs benedict before waking him. He'd spent the previous three years thinking and organising for two. He pretty much doesn't even need to organise himself now; Rosalie does it for him. It's kind of nice, he supposes. But..then again...he kind of liked being relied on.

"Your flight tickets are on the table," she continues, shrugging herself into a beige trench coat. "Have fun. Hope you win."

And with that, the door opens and closes and she's gone in a blur of dark waves and clacking heels. He hadn't even gotten to remind her this morning how proud he is that she's scored her first role in film after the vampire franchise she'd starred in. Sure, it's only a small part, but it's something all the same.

His flight to L.A leaves later that afternoon and for probably the sixth time in the last hour, he checks that the piece of paper on which Wendy had written Elena's address is still in his jeans pocket. It is. He unfolds it and reads the words again, though he's not sure why. Somehow, his brain had it memorised the minute his producer had handed it to him the morning after she'd confirmed Elena would attend the awards show.

They have a speech to write, should they win; Wendy had said there was a good chance they might, and it was voted for by the fans, so it had to be something of significance. Damon has no idea what they're going to say. Half the time we weren't even acting? It was literally the easiest thing in the world to kiss the person we were in love with? Probably not what Wendy had in mind, he figures.

When he finally gets into LAX after a flight during which he'd tried and failed several times to read some crime novel Rosalie had bought him the other month, he's pretty shattered and feels kind of gross. He sends Elena a text to let her know he's landed and needs to make it through baggage claim before he can get a cab to her place. It's a good half hour before he gets any response back - by which time he's already handing his bag to the cab driver - but she lets him know she's making dinner and he has no need to worry about finding something to eat. Damon wonders which of her three dishes it'll be, and finds himself smiling a little. As awkward as things were towards the end, he's missed her like crazy; the set just isn't the same without her.

X

The address is etched into his memory and yet, when the cab stops outside the building painted in the most disgusting colour green he's ever seen, he pulls that piece of paper back out and checks that the driver has the right place. He's assured - in a mixture of Spanish and broken English - that this is indeed the correct building. He's not supposed to feel protective over Elena anymore, not entitled to worry over her safety, but he immediately hates the thought of her coming back here. At night. Alone.

"Damon?" he hears her question, and he looks up in the direction of the sound. She's got her head sticking out of the window four floors up and Jesus, all she seems to be wearing is a poor excuse for a camisole. "Are you actually going to ring the buzzer? The sea air's great and all, but I'm about to burn the chicken."

He smiles to himself. Of course she is. "Let me in then." He stops himself adding that he feels like he could get mugged at any moment and instead, calls up a "thanks," when he hears the front door buzz open.

Once inside, he takes a quick look around the lobby as he waits for the elevator up. It's better inside than out. He feels less likely to become a crime statistic.

Her apartment door is open slightly when he reaches her floor and he lets himself in after a soft knock. There's music playing - something he hasn't heard before but it's more urban than he'd ever assumed she'd be into - and there's a remarkable calm considering she's cooking.

"Smells good," he tells her, setting his bag on the floor after closing the door behind him. "Really good."

She's proudly smiling when she turns around with a wooden spoon in her hand. "Thanks. How was your trip?"

He shrugs. "You know I prefer to drive."

"Still taking trips in the Camaro?"

She asks it as though that car didn't signify some of their best moments together. He tries to respond in a way he hopes isn't awkward. "A few. Not as many as I'd like to."

"You know what I've figured from moving here?"

Safety isn't that important? "What's that?" He can't bring himself to be that guy and say what he really wants to.

"Do as much of what makes you happy as you can."

She's different. Things have changed.

"Some sound advice. I'm gonna go wash up," he tells her. "Where's your bathroom?"

"That door on the right." There are only two. It's a small apartment. "You want wine?"

"Definitely. I'll be two minutes."

The bathroom smells like her. It's vanilla and honey and... something new. Spice? Something a little more exotic for sure. For a moment, he glances at the shower and wonders how she manages to get up on time now. Does she still need to snooze her alarm for a good thirty minutes? Is she late to work like she used to be during that final season they worked together? Or...he spies the cologne. And then notes the spare toothbrush. Maybe she has someone to wake her up like he used to. Maybe it's that same guy she was standing with in the queue to the ferris wheel at Coachella a few weeks ago. He doesn't follow her on social media anymore. It didn't seem appropriate.

Damon shakes his head. He's not even sure why he's thinking about it. Drying his hands on the towel, he clicks off the light and pulls his phone out of his back pocket, sending a quick text to let Rosalie know he's made it to Venice Beach. She's already left him one to say she's gotten to New York on time and safely and he smiles at the accompanying picture: she's starfish on the huge bed in her hotel room.

"Hope you're hungry," Elena tells him as she looks up with a plate in each hand when he reenters the main room of her apartment. Clad only in a lilac silk camisole and tiny shorts with her hair tumbling down her back, she looks like a beach goddess. A beach goddess who cooks. Damon silently reprimands himself and forces his mind to get a grip.

"Starving."

"Good. I probably made too much but I guess it makes up for all of the times I made nothing."

She follows her statement with a laugh and he finds himself frowning. It wasn't like he minded being the chef of the house.

Elena sets down the plates at the kitchen counter and indicates the seat for him to sit in. The wine is already poured - chablis, he thinks, judging by the bottle - and it makes him smile. She hasn't learned to pick one that compliments the food she's eating - yet. It's probably just a matter of time before she becomes good at that too. He surveys the plate in front of him and he's a little speechless. There's a perfectly-cooked chicken breast accompanied by a green leaf, mango and pomegranate seed salad and what look suspiciously like sweet potato fries.

"It's not going to kill you," she laughs again. He's obviously wearing his thoughts. "I don't think."

"I can't believe you made this!"

"Yeah well," she shrugs and takes a healthy slug of wine. "It was probably about time I learned."

"I always enjoyed cooking."

"Turns out, I enjoy it too. Just had to figure out how to stop burning everything first. I ruined a few pans the first few weeks after you left."

Damon's not sure why she's talking about it just doesn't hurt her anymore. He wants her to shut up though; it might not affect her now but even though he's married to someone else, any reference to the way things ended between them hurts him. He didn't leave because he didn't love her - quite the opposite actually.

Somehow, his brain is sending some sort of signal to his mouth because he's changing the subject and asking her a question about how long she's lived here before he's fully realised what's happening. He learns that even though it takes a good while longer to drive to Century City than it would if she lived in Cheviot Hills or Beverlywood or even Culver City, she loves the place because of its proximity to the ocean; it's literally right there, ready and waiting for her morning run or bike ride.

"Morning run?"

"Yeah, I'm better at getting up these days too. You spoiled me."

He's pissed that she's cast them back to those mornings where she would wrap herself around his body as though her life depended on it and he would bury his nose in her hair. Damon manages to grit out a laugh before taking a large gulp of wine.

"So, you have any idea what we can say in this speech if we win?"

"Not a clue. What if we just get drunk beforehand and see what comes out of our mouths?"

"Interesting idea."

"And judging by the way you just said that, not one you think we should seriously consider."

Her eyes are bright with confidence, he notices. She really has changed. He's not sure where he stands. She's making him nervous.

"I think Wendy would probably have something to say," he tells her, reaching for the bottle of wine to top up their glasses."

"To be honest, I thought you might have had it planned already. You're always so good at public speaking."

Her compliment is casual but it still makes him warmer inside than it should. "How about we finish this wine and then really focus?"

Elena nods with a smile. "So how's Ric?"

X

"And then we can just end with something like 'It's a good thing it's not awkward.'"

"And you can do that cute thing with your mouth where you bite your lip," he adds before frowning at his words. Shit. He shouldn't have said that. Opening the second bottle of wine was a bad idea.

As if clueing in to his thoughts, Elena shifts on the couch, putting some distance between them so her bare knee is no longer knocking against his every time she gets excited or finds something funny. She's fucking gorgeous like this: all long, lean legs on display, tousled hair, slightly hazy expression, wine-stained lips. He needs to pull himself together; he's got a wife in New York and he has no right or need to be here like this.

"And you can kiss my cheek to let people know, you know, it's not awkward."

Oh. She's not clued into what he's thinking. She's very clearly had too much wine and Damon knows he needs to leave before either of them says or does something stupid. More than likely, that person will be him.

He makes a point of looking at his watch. "It's late; I should get going."

"Oh." She looks somewhat disappointed. He knows he's made the right choice. "Shall we just meet at the venue tomorrow?"

"Don't be silly. I'll come pick you up. I have a car coming at eight."

She's had too much wine to suggest anything else, he knows, and he sees himself to the door, picking up the bag he'd left there earlier.

"See you tomorrow," she says from only inches away; she's obviously picked up some sort of stealth movement skills from filming this movie because he hadn't even heard the couch rustle or her feet patter on the floor. "I'll make sure I'm not late."

"I'll believe it when I see it," he replies humorously and she offers him the widest of grins. "Goodnight Elena."

"Night, Damon."

She closes the door after he steps out into the hallway and he thinks about reminding her to put the chain across. It's Venice Beach after all. But then he hears metal rattling and a few choice curse words tumble from her lips before the chain obviously makes it to where it's supposed to be and things go quiet again. It's only at this point that he remembers he hasn't yet called a cab. Perhaps Uber might be able to help him out.

X

Jesus, not only is Elena ready, Damon discovers as the car pulls up outside of her building - at which she's waiting outside - but she's stunning. Her hair is pulled up and off of her face; her eyes warm chocolate in the centre of smokey eyeshadow and smudged liner; black dress perfectly hugging every inch of the body it's covering. He's struggling to think of what to say as she opens the car door and seats herself next to him. He should have got out to do that for her. His mouth's dry and it's not supposed to be like this. None of it is supposed to feel like this.

"Hey," she breathes with a smile, either deciding against acknowledging his unease or completely missing it. Either way he's grateful.

"Hey. You look lovely."

Lovely's a safe word.

"So do you," she replies. "Very handsome."

The car makes its way slowly along the road which appears to be littered with potholes - for prime real estate, access isn't great. There are also a number of cars parked at the sides of the road - negative points he'd have brought up if he'd been choosing an apartment with her. Except, he didn't choose this apartment with her. He wasn't going to choose an apartment with her.

"I kind of hope we don't win this thing," Elena says after a few minutes of silence. "I'm not sure the speech we came up with is going to cut it. At least, not in Wendy's eyes."

Something inside of his chest lurches. His heart maybe. If she can remember what they'd decided upon, she must remember how close they'd been sitting; his hasty, guilty exit when he realised how inappropriate it was.

"That coming from the girl who loves winning awards to satisfy her competitive streak."

"I'm getting better. Just take it out on the treadmill instead."

He can tell. She looks unbelievable.

X

They win. He rises from his seat with an honest grin and she's still sitting there, looking like she knew this would happen but she's embarrassed anyway. Offering her his hand to help her up onto that stage (because those damn heels she's somehow strapped her feet into look like dainty death traps) Damon waits for her to take it and she's still looking sheepish as they make their way onto the stage.

He thanks their presenters and he can feel Elena standing behind him, half-clutching his suit jacket as though she's a little terrified. She rubs a hand down his arm, switching her position so that she's standing to his right and he moves to compensate for the fact that he feels too hot.

They do their speech and she bites her lip and ends with 'It's a good thing we have chemistry.' They hadn't rehearsed that bit. Her voice sounds husky and when he kisses her cheek - because that's what he's supposed to do, right? - she giggles in that adorable breathy way, enhanced by the cigarettes he wishes she wouldn't smoke. His heart is fucking hammering. They need to leave and he needs to go back to Atlanta.

Except, they don't leave. He doesn't go back to Atlanta either. Instead, they take their seats at the dinner table, both immediately taking large sips (or maybe it'd be more correct to call them gulps) of champagne. The waiter brings their first course: tuna tartare and old habits creep up on them. Elena hates any kind of fish that isn't cooked all the way through and rather than simply eating the salad leaves accompanying the tuna, she lifts the thin slices up with her fork and transfers them to his plate. Doesn't even ask.

She also seems oblivious as she takes another mouthful of champagne before reaching for a bread roll. It's only when her hand stops in mid air, halfway back to her side plate that he knows she's just realised what she's done. Should it be a problem? It's only tuna and it's easy to fall into old habits like this, Damon tries to tell himself. Taking her bottom lip between her teeth, she offers him a soft, apologetic smile.

"Sorry, I didn't think. Do you want me to take it back?"

No. He's starving. "It's fine." He takes a bread roll himself. "I know how you feel about fish like this."

"Still haven't gotten over that one."

She takes her third mouthful of champagne, practically draining the glass and he decides he's not drinking any more during the evening. At least one of them needs to be aware of what they're doing.

X

He's not supposed to enjoy being here. He thinks about Rosalie, starfish on that plush white bedding in her hotel room and he knows he's supposed to desperately want to be there with her. He doesn't not, it's just that he also doesn't want to leave Elena. He feels like a dick. Hell, he is a dick. But a caring one at that because after copious amounts of alcohol, she's pretty drunk and he knew he'd worry if he let her go back to her apartment on her own.

He's not staying - the car's waiting outside - but he's also not leaving until he knows she's made sure that front door is locked and she's not about to try and improve her newfound cookery skills at 2:30am.

She's not too drunk to make him leave the room while she changes into her pajamas however, and for that, he's hugely grateful. It makes an awkward situation slightly less so. Her bedroom door opens to reveal her in plaid shorts and a navy tank top and he decides he really needs to leave now.

"Elena, I have to go."

"Thank you for dropping me off," she says sincerely. The large glass of water she'd downed after entering her apartment must have done the trick. "I had a really nice evening."

"Me too."

She steps towards him and leans in to give him a hug, that scent of vanilla and honey - and spice too - surrounds him. "I miss you, you know," she says softly against his neck. She's still in his arms. He hadn't even realised he'd been hugging her back. "I miss everyone. But I really miss you."

"I…"

"I didn't run away. Not really." She's tired. Her eyes are closed, he can tell. "But it's easier here."

He might as well have a neon sign spelling douchebag pointing at him. How the fuck is he supposed to respond?

And then she turns her head ever so slightly, pressing her lips against his neck softly in a kiss so gentle and sincere it makes his heart ache and his eyes prick. His whole left side is tingling and he knows he needs to get the hell out of there before her acknowledgement of their situation becomes decidedly less innocent.

"Goodnight Damon."

She extracts herself from his arms - why were they still around her anyway? - and smooths her hands down her top. He's a little dazed but manages to choke out a 'goodnight' followed by "Make sure you lock the door."

Elena rolls her eyes and he smiles because it's more normal again. Exiting, he turns one last time to look at her standing there because it's not like he'll get the chance again. She offers a smile he wishes wasn't trying to cover some sadness - her eyes give her away - before closing the door behind him.

 _We are the ever-living ghost of what once was._

 _I never want to hear you say_

 _That you'd be better off_

 _Or you liked it that way_

 _But no one is ever gonna love you more than I do_

* * *

 **Lyrics are from 'No-one's Gonna Love You' by Band of Horses. Drop a little review ;) x**


	6. Haunted By Memories

**A/N - Thank you so much to those of you who reviewed, alerted and favourited last chapter. Lyrics in this one are stolen from 'Little do you Know' by Alex and Sierra.**

 **Enjoy (and review!) ;) x**

* * *

Chapter 5:Haunted By Memories

 _Little do you know_

 _How I'm breaking while you fall asleep_

 _Little do you know_

 _I'm still haunted by the memory_

 _Little do you know_

 _I'm trying to pick myself up piece by piece_

"Urgh, Elena," Carter mumbles as the bed dips, signalling her exit from under the covers. "It's so early."

"I have a flight to catch," she replies, hurriedly pulling on a pair of black running leggings with orange piping down each leg seam. "Can't miss a workout though."

Actually, she could miss the workout - it's not like her body needs it after all - but she's panicking about seeing Damon tomorrow. Running is the only thing that helps clear her mind.

She knows they both got a little carried away the previous week when he'd flown across to L.A for the awards show and now it's awkward. Or at least it _will_ be when she gets to the set of Vampires! for the voiceover Wendy had asked her to come in and do. Ratings for the show are still falling and as much as she knows it isn't her fault, she still feels partly responsible. Damon hadn't mentioned anything about it when he'd been here, and of course, she hadn't asked.

He's in her head. He's in her head all day every day until she falls to sleep, and even then, sometimes he's in her dreams too. Or her nightmares, depending on whether she's reliving the weekend he left. She knows it's a result of the previous week. Of their time spend together. Spent too close, falling into old habits and wanting (at least on her part) to do things she knows would lead nowhere good.

The realisation that she still wants to be with him hit her like a freight train the day after he flew back to Atlanta and Carter came round, kissed her and elicited not even a tenth of the tingles she'd felt dance along her skin when Damon had momentarily rested a hand on her knee under the table at the awards ceremony dinner. She knows it can't happen though: he's married and they broke up for good reason, but it doesn't make her want him any less; make her miss him any less.

She's dreading this voiceover.

And yet, of course, she isn't. Because _he'll_ be there.

X

The flight goes without event. She flips through a magazine, nervously chomps through a bag of dried cranberries and macadamia nuts and watches the start of three movies. None entertain her. She wants to turn off the movie that's been playing in her head - the one where Damon decides his future is her and maybe a dog and an RV where they can tour the country - Canada too - and not an army of kids circling his feet. But she can't turn it off and the damn thing just keeps on playing.

Hartsfield-Jackson is busy when she makes it through baggage claim and towards the row of cabs parked outside. There are a flurry of photographers who snap her picture but they don't follow her outside and she figures they're clearly waiting for someone else; she'll just fill in a little passing time. Success has come for her without that ridiculous level of fame granted to stars like Angelina Jolie and Beyonce - who can't even seem to pee without the whole world knowing about it - and for that, Elena is eternally grateful. It means she can live her life in as normal a way as possible. Nobody cares if she buys a grapefruit from Ralph's. It doesn't matter.

The air is hot and thick when she gets to the set, around an hour and a half later. She's not doing any kind of recording until tomorrow but she's excited to see everyone and figures the reunion stuff can happen today; work can follow. She's only in town for two days - the movie she's working on requires her to be back on set and ready to shoot.

As soon as she shuts the cab door, Caroline's excited squeal fills the lot and before she can brace herself, her blonde best friend is slamming into her while gushing about how good she looks and how much she's missed.

"Care, slow down," she laughs, pulling back.

"Are you kidding? I've got you back for like, five minutes! We gotta get in as much as possible, starting with tonight."

"What's tonight?"

"We're going out."

"We are?"

"Yep. You, me, Bonnie. We need to talk. Don't think I haven't seen the pictures," Caroline states, raising an eyebrow.

"What pictures?"

She scoffs and rolls her eyes.

"I honestly have no idea what you're talking about!"

The blonde pulls her phone out of her shorts pocket and taps in a web address which brings up a picture that had obviously been taken at the awards show the previous week. It shows her and Damon looking incredibly close - almost incriminatingly so - yet Elena knows it's not what it looks like. Yes, they fell into a couple of old habits but the photo makes the situation look as though something had gone on. Nothing had. As much as in the back of her mind, she might have wanted it to.

"Care, it's not what it looks like. You know what the press can be like."

"Yeah I do. And I know nothing happened. But God Elena, the way you're looking at each other..."

Their conversation is cut short by Bonnie's squeal and for that, Elena is eternally grateful. She bounds over with outstretched arms and a huge grin spread across her face which she can't help but return. She knows they'll revisit this conversation later - Caroline will make sure of that - but for now, she's happy to let Bonnie drag her towards the main hangout point of the set: Craft Service.

X

They're at the same bar they went to on their girls' night just after Damon had left, only this time, Caroline isn't flirting with the band members because she's a taken woman (that night hadn't provided just Elena with a boyfriend...or...whatever Carter is. They haven't officially had the conversation but he spends time with her and she spends time with him and she supposes they just… _are_ ) and it's a little quieter too; she's kind of disappointed. It means Caroline will ask more questions.

She hadn't seen Damon that afternoon or evening. Apparently, he'd filmed his scenes earlier and had gone home under the guise of having some _stuff to sort out_. If she didn't know better, she'd assume he's avoiding her.

She doesn't know better.

"You were disappointed he wasn't there." Great. She groans inwardly. This conversation again. "I saw it on your face," Caroline continues. "When Ric said he'd already left. You looked disappointed."

She shrugs, tries to feign nonchalance. "I guess it would have been nice if everyone was there, that's all." That's not all. "I'll see him tomorrow anyway."

Nobody ever made this much fuss about them when she was still a main cast member.

"I want to talk about these stunts," Bonnie states. "And that freakin' injury! What happened?"

Elena is so grateful to the other woman for the change in subject and recounts at length the onset stories, accidents and practical jokes which, for all their lightness, end up making Bonnie a little downcast.

"We just miss you," she says sadly. "It's not the same."

"Are you sure you can't come back?" Caroline asks. "For the final season?"

"Not sure how I'd fit it in," she answers honestly. "But I miss you guys too. So much."

The music starts to pick up a little and they realise the bar is busier than when they first arrived.

"Right," Bonnie declares, slamming her glass down perhaps a little too hard, making them giggle. "We're dancing."

Girls' night stays as just that. They're home (or in Elena's case, in the hotel room) before 1am and nothing of note happens. Pulling the covers up and over her body, she sighs. The tequila she's been drinking has her feeling heavy and adding to the fact that she can think of nothing other than Damon, she wants nothing more than to sleep for about five days straight.

X

It's a little strange, arriving on the set of Vampires! and not immediately making her way to hair and makeup; for a recording, there's no need to have her hair curled or waved or straightened and her eye makeup can stay as plain old mascara only. She rests her hands in the pocket of her tiny shorts - the weather is so hot - and wanders over to the main building which houses Wendy's office and the room in which the cast do their read-throughs.

That's where she spots him. Or, more accurately, that's where she _hears_ Rosalie. She knows exactly who it is because immediately after the question, Elena hears Damon's voice in reply, soft and gravelly at the same time. She's jealous. The realisation makes her angry.

"Elena!" Rosalie drops her arm from Damon's back and he straightens stiffly. He looks nervous for only a second or two before plastering that professional expression across his face that he always used to wear during press events when they'd first started seeing each other and were still keeping everything quiet. The other brunette makes her way over with a genuine smile. "It's good to see you."

Yeah. "You too," she smiles, hoping it appears genuine (even though it isn't) "I thought you were in New York?"

Shit. She probably shouldn't have opened with that.

"I was but there's a couple days break and I missed him too much," she nods in the direction of Damon whose jaw muscles tense before he indulges his wife with a warm smile. He still says nothing. Elena thinks she feels nauseous. Not sure of quite how to respond, she offers another smile and nods herself - but in the direction she had originally intended to take. "I should get going."

"Are you hanging around?" Damon finally speaks up and his voice sounds foreign.

"For the day. My flight is late tonight."

He nods and Elena wonders whether they all look like puppets. "I guess I'll see you around."

X

Her voice-over really doesn't take long. In fact, it takes about five minutes. Still, the expanse of free time she finds herself with means that she can catch up with everybody. She even becomes the runner: fetching bottles of water and fruit cups from Craft Services whenever anyone needs anything. She doesn't linger on Damon's scenes however; Rosalie is there watching, sometimes snapping candid pictures on the camera she knows belongs to him. It reminds her of all the trips they took together, when he showed her the world and took pictures while she experienced the wonder of it all for the first time. Some of her favourite pictures were taken on that camera.

Unusually, everyone breaks for lunch at the same time and she figures Wendy has organised it that way. There are jokes about getting in line for the pasta buffet and yet, there's a notable pick up in speed when it becomes apparent how many hungry cameramen are going to need feeding at once. It's a good thing she's been able to provide snacks all morning so that Caroline and Bonnie aren't as starving as they might have been.

Elena finds herself standing in the queue behind Damon and figures it's typical. All these people and that's who she ends up next to. Rosalie is no longer with him however, and he turns, brushing against her as he does so. A jolt flies up her back and she silently curses her body for betraying her.

"You all done?" he asks.

"Yeah. Didn't take long. You have any idea where Wendy is going with that story arc?"

"My guess is that Nina will be the one to save Ian. They're no doubt keeping it open for if you come back."

"How many more seasons have you got?" It's the first time she's broached anything even remotely close to the falling ratings.

He seems to sigh a little. "Just the next one I guess. Either way, the next one will be my last."

They shuffle forward and she's not sure what to say. "What makes you say that?"

"It's the right time to go. We've taken the show as far as we can."

"What if Wendy decides to go for another season after this next one?"

"I guess they'll do it without Ian."

"Oh," she replies, feeling a little sad. It's not how she'd envisaged this all wrapping up. "You got any other projects lined up?"

"We're uh...Rose and I are looking to start a family."

Fuck. Well that hurts more than it should, more than it has any right to considering her stance on children. Feeling the tears prick in her eyes, Elena digs her nails into her palms and curls her toes as tightly as she can to focus on anything other than what he just said. And yet, it's not like she doesn't know that's what they'd be aiming for. It's why the two of them broke up after all. Her choice. Her fault. Their different ideals of the future.

Gaining as much strength as she can muster, she returns a smile. "Good luck with that. You'll be a great dad Damon" It's almost a whisper. She's absolutely transparent.

"Thanks."

His eyes look like they're shining and it's not happiness that she sees. It's something else.

"There you are!" Rosalie's chirpy voice cuts through the tension and Elena turns back to the food, gratefully taking a plate from the stack as they finally edge close enough to the table. She hears, rather than sees, Damon's wife plant a kiss on his lips and she's suddenly not hungry. However hard things had been when he'd first gotten married, they don't compare to this feeling. It's as though seeing it has made it real. She hates the universe.

X

She's been back in LA for two weeks and shooting for the movie has picked up pace in order to be finished on schedule. It's both a blessing and a curse; she's so busy that there's barely time to think about her conversation with Damon in the line for lunch (and the way it shouldn't make her feel, yet does) but the downside of that is the fact that filming is nearly over. She has an audition for a main role in the remake of an old cult classic but if she gets it, that won't start shooting for another month after this movie finishes. Elena has no idea what she's supposed to do in that time. Carter has plenty of suggestions - most of them involving a bed - and she's tempted to suggest a vacation to escape everything. Maybe skiing or something else as active she knows they'll both enjoy. Besides, apre ski is one of her favourite activities.

The network has just announced her return for the season 7 finale and she's gotten plenty of offers from talk shows to promote the episode. Her agent has booked her for an interview with People which will be broadcast online and she sits in the chair, grateful for the short rest, while the hair and makeup team do their thing. It's the first time in days she's gotten to shut her eyes in a comfy chair. She's a little worried she might fall asleep.

An hour or so later, she's sitting across from the interviewer with a large camera stuck intimidatingly close to her face.

"Nina Dobrev is back on Vampires!" the interviewer - Mark? she thinks his name might be - begins. "Elena, what can you tell us about her return?"

"Well, everyone knows Nina has been placed into a supernatural coma," she replies on autopilot. "But there's a vault which holds the answer to why she's back."

"Can you tell us any more?"

"I'm afraid my lips are sealed."

"How was it being back on set with everybody? Have you missed them?"

"Of course. It was great; it's a like a big family on the Vampires! set and it was great to be part of that for a couple days." She smiles and he casts his eyes down to his cue card.

"You've been working on a movie with a lot of famous faces here in L.A, am I right?"

"Correct. It's called Full Throttle and Leo Forde is directing."

"What's it like working with him?"

"It's great. He's so talented and I've learned so much from him. I'm so grateful I got the chance to develop my career with him."

"You seem to enjoy working with people you can learn from."

"Of course," she returns. "That's what this job is about and I'm fortunate to have worked with some incredibly talented people, both on and off the camera."

The interviewer's eyes seem to light up a little and he moves something from behind his cue card. "Speaking of on and off the camera, you had a long-term relationship with Damon Salvatore who has since married actress Rosalie Cullen. Was it difficult working with him again?"

"Of course not." She's been working this response since they first ended things. She can run it without thinking. "We're both professionals and we respect each other. We just want the fans to be happy."

"They got married in Italy." _It's as if he didn't just listen to a word she said_. And then in a cruel blow, he shows her what had been behind his card: a picture of Damon and Rosalie on their wedding day. He's carrying her bridal-style and they're both beaming. She's never seen this before. All of a sudden, Elena can feel her heart pounding in her ears. She almost misses the next question and then wishes she had. "How did you feel when you heard the news?"

"I…" her voice is in danger of cracking and she knows she's seconds away from the tears that have suddenly pooled in her eyes falling from them. Taking a breath, she swallows and looks back up at the interviewer. "When I heard about the marriage, I was happy for them."

"Even though it wasn't long after you two split?"

"We're friends. It's not like there isn't love there." _Crap_. She hadn't meant for it to come out _quite_ like that. "What I mean is, we were friends before we dated and we're friends now."

He seems to smile at her response and then moves on to the next question. Elena manages to get through the rest of the interview without any other awkward questions and she's thankful when it comes to an end.

"You okay?" her agent, Rachel, asks low enough that nobody else hears.

"I'm fine," she lies. "So tired though. Feel like I could sleep for a year."

She hopes the change of topic will either distract Rachel or give her enough of a hint that she doesn't want to talk any more about it. It seems to do the trick and the agent gathers up everything they need to make a quick exit.

X

It's two weeks later when Elena is tucked against Carter's body in bed that the phone call rouses her from sleep. Initially, her brain doesn't register the ringing, and she burrows a little closer into him, the soft cotton of his t-shirt over his chest providing a better pillow than the actual feather-stuffed ones she has on the bed.

"Your phone," Carter mumbles against her forehead and she lifts herself up onto her forearms, squinting in the light that's being emitted by the screen. It's Wendy.

"Hey," she answers croakily. Clearing her throat, she continues, "Everything okay?"

"Shoot, I've woken you haven't I? I'm so sorry!"

"It's fine, what's up?"

"Ratings for the show are up almost a million viewers since we announced your return." Wendy explains and almost instantly, Elena knows where this is going.

"That's great!"

"I know and I wanted to thank you. I also wanted to run an idea by you but I can call another time if it's better?"

"It's fine," she waves it away, as if the woman at the end of the line can see her.

"So how would you feel about coming back for the final season? I know you're incredibly busy so I was thinking perhaps the last half of the season? Or maybe even the final few episodes? There's a way I wanted to end the series for Ian and Nina but if it doesn't work out, we have some other ideas."

She blows out a breath. It'd be a huge commitment, especially if she was fortunate enough to get the role she's hoping for. But she wants to be a part of Vampires! ending. To bring the whole thing full circle and reward the fans - give them what they're desperate to see. And there's the fact that she'll get to spend one last period of time with Caroline and Bonnie before they all move on.

"I'm not expecting you to give me an answer now," Wendy says, and it makes her realise she's probably been silent for too long. Carter is looking at her quizzically but she rubs his arm and he's quickly back to breathing evenly again. "Think about it."

"Okay."

"I'm sorry to wake you."

"It's no problem, really."

"Goodnight Elena."

"Night."

She slides the green button to red and the room is plunged back into darkness.

"Everything okay" Carter mumbled against her skin as she settles back against him.

"Uh huh."

He presses a kiss to her forehead and Elena wills her stomach to somersault. She's disappointed (yet not surprised) when it doesn't.

 _Little do you know_

 _All my mistakes are slowly drowning me_

 _Little do you know_

 _I'm trying to make it better piece by piece_

 _Little do you know_

 _I, I'll love you till the sun dies_


End file.
